From Shaky Ground to Integration: The Emotional Impact of a Late ADHD Diagnosis.
It was a Thursday.
I remember because that’s when I usually go to the gym, but that would need to wait. I sat on a zoom call with a psychiatrist who specialised in diagnosing ADHD adults. I answered the questions and was gently guided back whenever the conversation started to drift off in another direction.
The signs had been there for years, relayed to me by friends and family. Still I found whenever I started to pursue this and edge towards getting an assessment I would fall back. In hindsight it was evidence of the classic ADHD thing of getting something 80% of the way there but not completely.
The barriers that emerged for me along the way didn’t help either: a GP who told me “You have a masters, you can’t have ADHD” or the numerous well meaning folk who would say “You don’t seem like you have ADHD to me. We’re all a little forgetful sometimes”. Another obstacle was the prohibitive cost. My ADHD assessment cost €1,500 excluding other ongoing costs associated with medication and reviews.
When I finally got the diagnosis though there was a massive sense of validation. A feeling of relief that there wasn’t something wrong with me but that my brain was wired differently and needed different inputs and environments compared to my neurotypical peers. For about a week I felt like it all made sense. Validation was, in itself, medicinal and therapeutic.
Following that stage of optimism and release was a heaviness and the processing part came in. As someone who was diagnosed at 34, I still had a lot of life to live but I also felt that I could have gone further with more support earlier. There were numerous thoughts around “what if” and “what could have been” had scaffolding been put in place earlier.
After this I began to feel wobbly for a while. My reality had shifted and it felt like my feet were no longer planted, like I was standing on unsteady ground and I couldn’t get even. I’d normally be rooted by routine and structure but that didn’t seem to help during this time. It felt like a constant jitteriness that wouldn’t go away.
This did settle after several weeks but it was followed by an overwhelming need to share what had happened. I attended a class on grief and loss during my masters qualification and remember being told that people who experience grief need to tell their story again and again as a way of processing what has happened. This lasted a week for me before I became more discerning with who I told.
One thing you don’t realise is the level of misinformation and the lack of understanding there can be about ADHD. This was particularly evident with one individual I met. I’ll never forget the drop in my stomach when I was told “ADHD is just anxiety, it doesn’t exist”. This knocked me deeply and I found my masking tendencies increasing in the days that followed. What did give me pause was the number of people who were supportive, kind and empathetic when I did share my news.
My counselling supervisor had one of the best responses of all. She said “I don’t know much about ADHD but I’m going to trust you as the expert on this and will follow your lead”. She guided me along through my own understanding and empowered me to feel a sense of agency, while never taking away the context around my neurodivergence and the barriers that still exist for us. This moment, combined with others, helped me reduce my masking behaviours and the impact of others' negative opinions. This could vary from day to day but I gradually felt more comfortable “coming out” with my ADHD. I was still discerning in certain professional and personal circles who I told but overall I felt better about being me and owning myself.
There are still some days where the wobble might creep up, but they become less frequent and I’m better at recovering from them. Many times, just going to sleep and starting again tomorrow is enough for me to get back on track. I’ve gained a solidity in myself that helps me get through the difficult times and enjoy the good ones more than I could ever have before.
If you’re navigating something similar and would like to explore it further, you’re welcome to get in touch.
